


THE CIGARETTE DUET

by mariya



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-25
Updated: 2012-11-25
Packaged: 2017-11-19 11:55:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/573002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariya/pseuds/mariya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You don't know when Stiles grew up, but you guess it's when he begins to prefer the burn of wine over the crackle of soda and the nicotine in his lungs versus the nurturing air.</p>
            </blockquote>





	THE CIGARETTE DUET

You don't know when Stiles grew up, but you guess it's when he begins to prefer the burn of wine over the crackle of soda and the nicotine in his lungs versus the nurturing air.

It's not very often when Stiles smokes, but when he does the smell nestles itself into his clothes and makes your pack and the omegas dash away, hands over their nose and eyes watering. Scott tried to keep as close as he could bear, but every time he fouled up and overreached, Stiles would quietly light a cigarette and Scott would be long gone.

And with each cigarette he turned into pillars of ash, Stiles drifted further and further away until it seemed to everyone that he was unreachable.

You were the first to catch Stiles actively smoking. Of course everyone knew about the death he was harboring in his chest, but he had been considerate enough to avoid smoking in front of the wolves. Then he stopped caring.

The streetlights blinked out in favor of the stars peppering the midnight sky in faraway constellations, and the sharp smell of early morning dew demanded your attention. Stiles had driven his clunky Jeep into the center of a wild field where the fireflies and Scott used to keep him company past curfew, but one day Scott grew up and the fireflies did too and they stopped coming. Stiles still visited though. All the time, maybe expecting a little boy and a cluster of fireflies but arriving to nothing but the reticent judgment of the stars.

Stiles was out late like all the bad kids, and all that kept him company were the silent, dark blue heavens. You were watching because you had picked up his heart's thumping signal and went off to find him. The very thought of Stiles sitting alone in his car, troubled, made your wolf ache. Boys who ran with wolves shouldn't run alone. 

But when his run-down Jeep came into view with a boy of twenty draped over its hood, you decided to stay away. It looked like he was having a moment. He'd been having a lot of those.

You could hear the soft music from his iPod and the solemn beat of his heart to the drums. The vacant look in his eyes when he sat up and dug a packet of cigarettes and a metal lighter from his pocket. He bit into a cigarette, closed the pretty gold of his eyes and lifted pale fingers to catch a spark. The flame stuttered and so did the boy's heart. (Maybe yours did too.) Light spread across his sullen face, smoke spilled from his cold angel bow's lips and fled into the sky where upon he tilted his head back to watch the smoke escape in ways he could not.

You wanted to call to him-- but you couldn't, no, not to tell him to stop. Not when you were the one that was killing him-- not when everyone was killing him.

Fire bit and licked at the paper, slowly eating away at Stiles, stealing pieces and pieces of him with each drag of his glacial fingers until there was nothing left but swells of smoke and columns of ash and ember. You wanted so badly to save him from the blues around his head but Stiles didn't want to be saved. He just wanted to be alone. He wanted to be okay.

Maybe that was why he started smoking: to keep the wolves from invading his new world.

The boy's phone vibrated and he sighed. Stiles took out one ear bud and stared tiredly at the text. Scott. Always trying to reach now that he couldn't. Stiles shook his head, jaded, turned the phone off and tossed it.

He placidly gathered himself, laid down, and stared at the silent sky staring on back.


End file.
